


Lonely World

by Simpify



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, George - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), dnf - Fandom, dream - Fandom, dreamnotfound - Fandom, mcyt
Genre: A LOT of Angst, AU, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Assassination, DNF, Forbidden Love, M/M, Minecraft, dreamnotfound, mcyt - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28545138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simpify/pseuds/Simpify
Summary: Forced into being an assassin from birth, Dream had always wished that there was something more to life than just constant destruction. Then George appeared. Assassins were required to work alone — but what if this newcomer was the “something more,” Dream had long been searching for?
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Lonely World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m actually very proud of this fic so far, and I hope that you guys like it too! This will be reuploaded on my Wattpad as well for easier access, which has the same user as on here. Enjoy! :)

A freshly sharpened blade clutched in hand. The nearly silent breaths of air that came from a camouflaged body. Beads of sweat laced between the brows. Eyes squinted in pure concentration, never once moving from their poor target. All of this was the all-too-familiar custom of a stalker hunting it’s prey; most of the time, the prey not even knowing that they were being pursued. 

Just wait. 

Wait. 

_ Wait. _

Wait until the time was right. Wait until their sensitive areas, preferably the neck or chest, were exposed. Wait until their guard was let down — until they thought they were safe. _Safe._ Wait until they were least expecting what would inevitably be their fate. 

Then, strike. Move with haste and diligence so you had the element of surprise, but never let that impair your accuracy. Aim for the weakest areas. Use the target’s body weight against them. Make it a swift and painless death. Never, ever slip up. _Ever._

Dream sat alertly with his back against the trunk of a decaying birch tree, reciting what he’d been studying from birth in his mind. Over and over again. He’d studied the curse — no, _skill_ — of being an assassin long before he could even properly read. He was raised that way. His first spoken word had been “destiny,” due to the amount of times his late parents had consoled him about his future as an assassin. They claimed it was his birthright. 

Make the kingdom proud, they said. Make us proud, they said. 

The law went as follows; if one was the offspring of two assassins, then they were obligated by birthright to enlist as one at the age of sixteen. However, that only applied to one child. If there were two or more children, then only one was required to go and step up to the plate. 

He never wanted this path. He had almost fled from home on multiple different occasions with the burning desire to leave this sickening world behind him. But one thing changed his mind, and that was the birth of his younger sister. He was aware that if he didn’t take the responsibility, it’d be forced on her. She was too delicate and empathetic for this cruel job. Therefore, he stayed. He accepted his fate. 

The second he began his training, he had quickly excelled in his studies. He was constantly praised by his mentors and held to the highest standards anyone could have. As to be expected, he was also richly rewarded. All the money a man could ever need was thrown into his large, calloused hands. 

He didn’t want the damn money. 

He wanted his humanity back. 


End file.
